For Gain and Glory
by Biff McLaughlin
Summary: Edward Kenway's search for gain and glory would lead him on many adventures, but at what cost? When all is said and done, who will be at his side to enjoy the spoils of his labour? Rated M for language, violence, and mature themes.
1. Shipwrecked

**For Gain and Glory**

**Prologue**

Edward Kenway was born in 1693 into most unfortunate circumstances for a poor lad; he desired a much better life than that to which he was born. He longed for influence, wealth, and land of his own, but his lowly birth would make achieving any of that difficult at best. He wanted an easy life, too, and as a wise friend would tell him, no honest man led an easy life. In truth, this would underscore Kenway's primary struggle, wanting an easy life while trying to live it as a good man.

He was a scoundrel as a lad, with a hot temper and foolhardy and reckless manner, though he did sometimes chose his battles wisely. While defending a young maid from the unwanted advances of three drunken men, he met his first wife, Caroline Scott. Her family employed the girl, and when she hadn't returned from the market, Caroline had been sent to find her. Edward was nearly unconscious when Caroline happened upon the fight and frightened the others off. She attended to his wounds and in spite of their mismatched social standing, they fell in love and were married in 1711. Edward loved Caroline and tried to do good by her, but finding steady work that paid well and did not break one's spirit was difficult and he took to drinking. Try though she did to support Edward, he was fixated on a life at sea and did not seem to take his responsibilities to her seriously. In 1713, Caroline left him to live with her parents.

Desperate to realize his dreams and prove himself worthy of Caroline, Edward became a privateer and went to the West Indies to fight in the War of the Spanish Succession. It was during this time that he met the likes of Ed Thatch, Benjamin Hornigold, and James Kidd, among others, all men of courage like him who were searching for wealth and the freedom to do as they please. Fast friendships were formed. Barely a year into his service, however, the war ended. No closer to his goal, Edward chose to stay in the West Indies to seek fortune and glory.

A quick and clever man, Edward could sail a ship, hunt and fish. He learned to sew so he could repair sails and clothing, and fashion his own pouches and holsters. He was good enough with numbers to be trusted to help his captain buy and sell goods at port, and he could read and write better than most of his peers. Even so, he found it difficult to rise above his station. As time passed, he realized he would have to seize whatever opportunity might come his way if he hoped to do better. In the summer of 1715, life presented Edward an opportunity he could not refuse.

What Edward Kenway saw as a quick and easy solution to his woes would be, in fact, the start of a great adventure. However, as clever as he was, Edward was too selfish to consider the far-reaching consequences of his actions. He had much to learn, and some of those lessons would be hard ones to master.

**Shipwrecked**

Fragmented images danced through Kenway's mind. Visions of Caroline; of a fierce battle at sea; a shadowy figure leaping from another ship's mast to theirs, dropping down to kill the captain; an explosion; bodies floating around him. He awoke, cold and wet and gritty, the ocean having washed him up onto land. Coughing out water, he crawled further up the beach, collapsing to roll onto his back. He squinted against the glare of the sun as he gasped for air. Gulls circled above him, grey and white streaks against azure skies. The storm had passed, he was alive, as impossible as that seemed, and he laughed at his luck. Quieting himself, he listened for sounds of life. An unnatural splash along the water's edge caught his attention.

It was his captain's assassin. The man pulled himself out of the water and onto the beach, settling a few feet away from Edward.

"Was it good for you as well?" Edward asked with a chuckle. This man had killed his captain, true, but Edward imagined there was good reason for that. The captain had been a bastard to all and a friend to none.

"Havana," the assassin said. "I must get to Havana."

"Well, I'll just build us another ship, will I?"

"I can pay you. Isn't that the sound you pirates like best? One hundred Escudos." The man held his right arm close to his body, hand shaking. He was injured.

Edward pulled himself up, interested in the money, certainly, but not at all pleased with the man's attitude. If he recalled his maps correctly, and his sense of where they were was correct, he knew this island was deserted. This bloke was dreaming if he thought leaving would be easy. Edward grabbed at a nearby bottle, hoping it might contain unspoilt rum. Finding it empty, he tossed it away.

"Keep talking," he said with a lopsided smile.

"Will you or won't you?"

Edward got to his feet and walked the assassin, holding out a hand to help him up. "You don't have that gold on you now, do you?" Cocky and sure of himself as ever, he smiled, trying to be charming and humorous.

The assassin, however, was of a more serious mind. He drew his pistol and pointed it at Edward's face, causing the sailor to stagger back and topple over onto the beach, making a most undignified squawking sound as he did so.

"Jaysus, mate," Edward gasped, holding his hands up. For the first time in days, he felt a cold trickle of fear snake through him.

"Bloody fucking pirates," the assassin cursed, venom in his voice. He pulled the pistol's trigger but nothing happened.

The two men regarded one another briefly before the assassin turned and ran off. Edward breathed a sigh of relief as he picked himself up off the ground and flexed his legs.

"I'm on to you, Snakesby!" He shouted. He caught sight of the man's distinctive blue coat disappearing into the foliage further inland and gave chase. "Come on mate, we're off to a bad start!"

The assassin was quick and nimble, heading deeper into the forest, but Edward was close behind. He hadn't managed to survive these years at sea through good luck alone; he was fit, strong, and stubborn as any man with something to prove. He could climb a ship's rigging with ease and adapt quickly to new environments. And he had a peculiar ability to sense things beyond what most men could see, a way of ... _knowing_ that he had never truly understood but had learned to use to his advantage. Following this assassin, Edward began to see a way of moving through the landscape using the trees, man-made structures, and rocky outcroppings as well as any path on the ground.

"Keep your distance. If you follow me, I'll kill you!" The assassin's second pistol was working nicely and Edward felt the sting of a bullet as it skimmed past his upper arm.

Edward's good-natured grin dissolved. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and listened. Opening them again, he saw the assassin through the trees, narrowing his focus on him, marking him as he would any animal he hunted. By some miracle, he still had two short swords attached to the belt at his waist and he drew them as he closed the gap between himself and the assassin. A man now well accustomed to fighting for his life, Edward had learned to use every part of his body as a weapon, and he was proficient with guns and swords as well. He rushed the assassin, knocked his pistol to the ground, grabbed the man's fist as he tried to strike back, and pulled him closer to butt heads with him. Spinning out of the assassin's reach, Edward closed in again to drive both swords through his rib cage. Pulling the blades out quickly, he let the assassin fall to the ground, dead before he landed.

"I am sorry it came to this, mate. We could have worked together to get off this island, but you'll help me all the same."

Edward noticed a sealed pouch at the man's waist and opened it, finding a letter, a map, some gold, and a strange cube made of glass. This was Mister Duncan Walpole, travelling to Havana to deliver a package to Governor Laureano Torres y Ayala. The governor's letter to Walpole informed Kenway that the governor didn't know what Walpole looked like, but that he would be recognizable by the costume he wore. Edward looked down at Walpole's body. He was about the same height as Kenway, only slightly larger, and he no longer had any use for his things. The decision made, Edward stripped the man of all he owned and assumed his identity. He would find a way to Havana to deliver Walpole's package, collect the reward, and find a ship.

Kenway had luck, for good or ill, and almost immediately he spotted a schooner anchored off a secluded beach nearby. This ship was owned by a merchant named Stede Bonnet, he would soon discover, and Bonnet had the great misfortune of being in the area at the wrong time. He and his crew were surrounded by British soldiers who believed them to be pirates and it was clear they intended to arrest or kill the man and his crew. Edward may have been a scoundrel, but he could not stand idly by while innocent people were abused so heartily, and he came to their aid, killing the soldiers. Bonnet's ship was in good stead and he offered Edward, who introduced himself as Duncan Walpole, passage to Havana in exchange for service as Bonnet's helmsman. They set sail immediately.

As he steered their course toward Havana, Edward Kenway took a deep breath. Sea air filled his lungs and he tipped his face toward the sun, letting the wind whip his blond hair about his face. He was on to something, something big he imagined, and the thrill of adventure raced through him. He would make something of himself, indeed, but he could not possibly know how many twists and turns the journey would take along the way, how many lives he would affect, or how much heartache might follow. A selfish man rarely thinks of such things until it's too late.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I really enjoyed the story of AC4: BF, and often wondered what Edward was up to during the gaps in the game's timeline. Of course, that got my imagination running around and when I lost momentum on "This is What Matters", I decided to get this out of my head an onto FF. I blame Zevgirl for encouraging me to "Doo eet"! On that note, my thanks to her for her friendship and encouragement. It is my intention to try posting a chapter here every other week, and to work on other stories in between. Now back to TIWM... Cheers!


	2. A Sly Bird

**A Sly Bird**

Chained as he was to the cargo deck of a frigate bound for Spain, Edward found himself with time to think upon his experiences in Havana. He had to admit that perhaps his father was right about him; he rarely thought a situation through before acting. Trying to pass himself off as Duncan Walpole without knowing one whit about the man, his organization, or his business with Governor Torres, hadn't been the best decision in hindsight. Edward's lust for gold eventually outed him as an imposter and he'd been beaten, stripped of his weapons, and tossed onto a ship in the Spanish treasure fleet.

But all was not lost. The ship's captain had made sure to take his weapons, but tucked away undetected in a hidden pocket in the coat's lining was a document Edward had stolen from Torres and his Templar cronies, Woodes Rogers and Julien du Casse. He didn't understand it, but it had been valuable to Torres and should prove useful in time. He thought back on the conversation about the mysterious place these men called The Observatory.

x~X~x

_"Decades ago, the Counsel entrusted me with the task of locating in these West Indies a forgotten place our precursors once called the Observatory. See here." Torres unfolded a document and pointed to strange markings. "Look upon these images and commit them to memory. They tell a very old and important story. For two decades now, I have endeavoured to find this Observatory, a place once rumoured to contain a tool of incredible utility and power. It houses a kind of armillary sphere, if you like. A device that would grant us the power to locate and monitor every man and woman on earth, whatever their location._

_"Only imagine what it would mean to have such power. With this device, there would be no secrets among men. No lies, no trickery, only justice. Pure justice. This is the Observatory's promise, and we must take it for our own."_

_"Do we know its whereabouts?" Woodes Rogers asked._

_"We will soon, for in our custody is the one man who does. A man named Roberts, once called a sage."_

_Julien du Casse tilted his head to one side, frowning. "It has been forty-five years since anyone has seen a true sage. Can you be sure this one is authentic?"_

_"We are confident he is," Torres said._

_"The Assassins will come for him," Rogers said._

_Torres smiled. "Indeed they will. But thanks to Duncan and the information he has delivered, the Assassins won't be a problem for much longer. All will be made clear tomorrow, gentlemen, when you meet the sage for yourselves. Until then, let's drink."_

_As Torres poured red wine for his guests, Edward circled the table and took the document depicting the sphere within the Observatory, slipping it into his pocket._

_"Let us find the Observatory together," Torres said, handing each of his guests a goblet of wine. "For with its power, kings will fall, clergy will cower, and the hearts and minds of the world will be ours."_

x~X~x

Edward's thoughts drifted to the group of assassins that had attacked him, Torres, Rogers, and du Casse when they'd collected the sage, Roberts. In spite of the nearly overwhelming number of them, Edward and the others had managed to avoid serious injury, killing their attackers. Even so, after all that, saving Torres's life, and enduring the effects of a blow dart's poison, the Governor paid him such a paltry amount of money that Edward determined he would sneak back into the estate that night to see the sage for himself. They had all underestimated Roberts, however. The sage had escaped and killed several of Torres's soldiers on his way out, and of course Edward, who hadn't seen any of it happen, was caught standing in the middle of the mess with no good explanation for his presence there.

_And now you're here, you fool. You need to find a way of out of this,_ Edward told himself, resolving to end the circle in which his mind was dancing. The ship was rolling in such a way that he knew a storm was brewing, and he could tell by the way the Spanish were behaving that they were not comfortable with the rough seas. He thought the fleet might have stopped moving altogether and decided the time to make an escape was near. The prisoner next to him was a formidable looking man, African if he had to guess, large and muscular. A slave, to be sure, and most likely very willing to make a break for it.

His thoughts were interrupted when a Spaniard entered the room, shouted at them and tossed a tin plate with a single piece of bread on it onto the floor between Edward and his fellow prisoner. The soldier turned and left, slamming the door behind him.

"You hungry, Mate?" Edward said, making eye contact with the man before he tipped his head toward their shackles.

The man gave him a sharp nod and they leaned forward to grab the bar that held their ankles to the deck. Giving it a few good hard tugs to one side, they broke the lock off and freed themselves.

Standing, Edward and his newfound friend made their way toward the bow of the ship, where their weapons were stored. They encountered only a few soldiers and killed them quickly and quietly. Reaching the forecastle, they found their things laid out on a table.

"We're stealing a ship," the slave said. "Get what you need."

"Aye." Edward reached for his swords and looked at the hidden blades Julien du Casse had given to him when they first met. They had proven useful and he needed all the weaponry he could find if they were to make good on escaping. Grabbing them, he strapped them onto his wrists. The slave had found his own weapons and looked to Kenway.

Nodding, Edward went to the door and opened it slowly, peering out to see if any Spaniards were in sight. Seeing none, he waved his accomplice into the next room toward the ladder leading up to the main deck. He took the lead, easing the trap open to look for signs of the crew. He could hear voices at the bow of the ship. The wind was getting stronger; they wouldn't have much time to make good on this escape before the weather complicated things dearly.

Edward opened the hatch and climbed out, holding it open for the man.

"There's many prisoners held on these ships. Set them free and they'll sail with us, no question."

Edward nodded. "So that's the idea then? Free what men we can, then find a fast ship to flee in?"

"Aye. There's a brig in this fleet."

"Go, I'll make my way 'round to you." He slapped the man on his upper arm and watched as he slipped overboard.

Shielding his eyes from wind and rain, Edward spotted a group of sailors near the bow of the ship. Five guards stood between them and his current location. Havana had taught him that secrecy and caution was often more effective than the plain brute force that had served him well enough in the past, and so he moved carefully, planning each step he took. Hiding behind crates of cargo, he whistled to draw the attention of a guard. When the man ventured close enough, he used his hidden blades to sever the man's throat, setting him down against the cargo. The other ships in the fleet were closeby, but as he made his way forward, killing one guard after another, it appeared that the Spaniards were most concerned about the brewing storm and believed themselves to be safe from all other dangers. Even as their ships bumped hulls together in the churning seas, no one was paying much mind to what was happening beyond their own decks.

As he cut the first group of sailors free, he whispered to them, "There's a catch to this favor. You're sailing with me."

"I'd follow you to hell for this, Mate," one man replied, shaking Kenway's hand vigorously.

"There's a brig in this fleet. We'll be taking her. Get to it and make ready to sail."

The men needed no further encouragement and made their way overboard, swimming toward the brig, the El Dorado. Climbing up the foremast to the yard, Edward crossed over to the next ship's mast and examined the deck. There was no sign of the crew and only a few soldiers guarded a group of pirates chained below. One pirate happened to look up and see Edward and he smiled briefly before going limp and falling back onto the deck. This distracted two guards and Edward dropped down between them, burying his blades in their necks. Throwing a knife into the eye of a third officer nearby, he took a quick look around and saw that no one else had seen or heard the disturbance.

"Come on, lads. If we're to drown today, it won't be here. Where's the crew?" he asked one sailor as he freed the men.

"Below deck, Mate. They was ordered to secure the cargo proper before setting sail again."

Nodding, Kenway pointed them toward the El Dorado and continued to make his way from ship to ship, climbing up one mast, crossing a yard, leaping to the next mast. Here, he managed to free a group of sailors without killing a single officer. Again, he climbed the foremast, ran along the yard to the next ship. There were only two men on deck below him. There were other soldiers at the bow of the ship and he assumed the prisoners were being held below deck. Climbing down the ratlines, he approached the soldiers nearest him and killed them both. Wiping his blades on one man's coat, he found the main hold's trap door.

Easing himself down into the hold, he realized he would have to dispatch half a dozen or more soldiers before he would be able to search for their captives. Setting out to get the job done, he favoured speed over stealth and fought his way forward until he found eight men tied up in the ship's orlop. Killing the one man who was standing watch over them, he crouched down to loosen their bonds.

"Get his blades, theirs too," he said, pointing to the bodies of two more men a few feet away. "We're going topside. Be ready."

He was glad to see that these men all appeared to be in reasonable health and willing to follow his lead. They each stood, flexed weary muscles, and armed themselves, waiting as Edward freed the next man. When they were finally ready, he pointed to a ladder nearby. Eager to escape, the men scrambled up the ladder and out onto deck, attacking those who stood between them and freedom.

"To the brig, Lads!" Edward shouted as he climbed up onto the side of the ship.

Diving into the water, he swam for all he was worth and pulled himself up onto the side of the brig, straining against the weight of his wet clothes. He could hear someone shouting on the quarterdeck and made his way around to the stern to get behind the man. Here, he passed the windows of the captain's quarters and paused to look through a clear pane of glass. The room was full of trunks and wardrobes, the table piled high with treasures, and he smiled. If they survived, they would have some loot to share. Continuing up, he stepped onto the deck and rushed the captain, slitting his throat and tossing him overboard. All along the deck, he could see the men he'd rescued fighting with the remaining crew, pushing men overboard. His accomplice waved from the bow, giving him what he assumed was a signal that they were clear.

Looking to the skies, Edward knew they had little time to get away from the fleet and make good on their escape, and he began shouting out orders. "Lay aboard, Lads!"

The black man was running back to the quarterdeck, shouting as he went. "Save your singing for Davy Jones, you jagabats! It's a hard wind coming!"

"The man speaks true. You lot weigh anchor!" Edward called out, pointing to a group of men below him. "As for the rest, half on the foremast and half on the main. Let's outrun this hurricane!" He was pleased to see that no one hesitated; every man ran to his station and prepared to sail.

Gripping the wheel, he turned to face his companion."Keep an eye on those galleons. See they don't give us any trouble."

"They won't," the man said, gripping the quarterdeck's railing. "Far too slow for this weather."

"Bark any orders you think wise, Mate! We're up against it here," Edward said.

"These men know their place. They'll see us home," the man replied.

"Incoming fire! Larboard, Captain!" someone yelled.

The brig was picking up speed now that the sails were unfurled and secured, and Edward steered her hard to starboard.

"Ready to fire, Captain!" another sailor cried out.

"Fire!"

The gunboat trying to follow them took a direct hit and the man who'd fired the cannon let out a victorious whoop and quickly set about reloading. The men who'd weighed anchor were tossing fire barrels overboard into the path of a second gunboat, firing upon them with a swivel gun mounted on the quarterdeck. Two shots and the gunboat sank.

"Look out, Mate, there's a rogue wave!"

"I see it," Edward said, steering the ship further to starboard, taking the wave head on.

Several waterspouts were forming all around them, the wind was fierce, and the enemy was still in pursuit. Cannon fire slammed into the larboard side and a man who had been clinging to the rat lines, acting as scout, went overboard. "It's not looking good!" Edward shouted as he fought to keep control of the ship.

Beside him, his companion gave him a stern look and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Steady as she goes, Mate! Focus on the task at hand."

Edward had dreamed of owning his own ship for most of his life, yet for just the briefest of moments, it seemed too daunting a task. But these men were looking to him for guidance and some were already calling him Captain. The ship and the lives of over twenty men were in his hands, and he drew himself up and scanned the area. The Spanish treasure fleet was beginning to fall behind, the storm wreaking havoc on their ships. The El Dorado was wounded, but holding steady, and he knew he could steer her clear of the storm to safety.

Setting his sights on a sliver of blue sky on the horizon, he sailed the brig toward it. Around him, men shouted out if enemy fire, a wave, or water spout was coming. As they gained distance on the fleet, the warnings ceased, and while they weren't yet clear of the storm, Edward felt himself settle into the role of Captain. It was a feeling unlike any other he'd ever experienced and he aimed to savour it for as long as he could.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: A ship's orlop is an area where cable/rope is stowed. According the interwebs, the term larboard was use in the British Navy until the mid-1800s when it was abandoned for the term port. Who knew? My thanks to Ubisoft for a story worth playing with, to Zevgirl and Zute for their continued friendship and good humour, and to everyone else who is tagging along with me. Have a great weekend! Cheers, Biff


	3. Kenway's Jackdaw

**Kenway's Jackdaw**

"Godfrey Lijah, we made it!" a weary but happy voice cried out and Edward let out a sigh of relief. Indeed, they had made it.

The Spanish treasure fleet was was in Davy Jones's Locker and had it not been for the hurricane, Edward would have stayed to try to reclaim as much of its cargo as he could take. He resolved to return one day if he could, to see what remained on the ocean's floor.

When they were well clear of the storm, Edward ordered the crew to drop anchor and reef the sails so they could rest for a spell. Every muscle in his body ached and he sat with his back to the helm, listening to the noises around him. His companion had retreated below deck to find a map and sextant and was now on the main deck, talking to the crew. They had lost a few of the men they'd rescued, but the rest, about twenty he thought, were reasonably fit, in good spirits, and more than happy to be sailing with Edward. He heard the Caribbean man laugh and promise to ask the Captain, and then he climbed up onto the quarterdeck. Edward pushed himself up to his feet and smiled.

"By God, we pulled this one straight from the teeth of Neptune." He held his hand out to the man. "I'm Edward. Much thanks for your aid back there."

Looking down at Edward's hand, the man paused briefly before gripping it firmly. "Adewale."

"Ever been to Nassau, Adewale?"

"Not yet."

Edward grinned and stepped to the larboard side, looking at the damage along the El Dorado's hull. "By God, she took some knocks. I think I'll keep her." He slapped the hull and shouted, "All hands aft, Lads. We're taking this one home!"

x ~ X ~ x

Edward asked Adewale to take the wheel and slipped below deck, into the Captain's cabin. Closing the door behind him, he stopped and took a good long look around the room. Boxes, barrels, and chests were stacked up against the walls around most of the room, the majority of the columns as tall as Edward. Before him, in the center of the room, sat a large round table covered with maps, candlesticks, a bottle of rum and two goblets, with a well-stuffed chair behind it. To the left, two overflowing dressers and a seamstress's mannequin with a fine coat draped over it. A weapons rack with a small collection of swords and two pistols was wedged between the dressers with a small barrel of what he assumed was gunpowder. Behind the round table, another desk and chair, and behind that the steps up to the cabin's windows were lined with books and trinkets in a variety of sizes and shapes. There was a wooden table covered with drafting tools, plans, and a model of the El Dorado along the right of the cabin. Edward ran his hand over the tabletop, shifting pieces of parchment, taking one in his hands. The previous Captain had been working on plans for additional cargo storage and larger crew quarters, from the looks of it. The floor of the cabin was covered with thick carpets in rich shades of red and behind him, a collection of flags were hanging by the door above several framed paintings that were propped against the wall. There was no bed to speak of, only the desks and chairs, but there were also hooks on the walls and Edward imagined he could hang a hammock somewhere if the chairs proved uncomfortable.

Kneeling before a chest within easy reach, Edward opened it. A piece of parchment with a name written on one side and a note on the other lay on top of gold and silver cups, plates, cutlery, chains, rings, pocket watches, and a sack of reales. Tossing the letter aside, Edward hefted the sack in his hand and reckoned it held roughly five hundred reales. Grinning, he dropped it back into the chest and opened another. It, too, was full of a variety of treasures, as were other boxes and chests along that side of the cabin. Edward decided that he would gather up all the reales he could find and use the money to pay the crew. It might even be possible for him to give each crew member his own plate, cup, bowl, and cutlery, based on his cursory inspection of the cabin's contents. Whatever he or the crew didn't want would be sold and the funds divided up amongst them.

Sitting at the round table, Edward opened the bottle of rum and took a swig, settling back into the chair. The rum was decent enough, the stuffed chair comfortable, and he could well imagine himself falling asleep there. So much so that he very nearly did, he was so exhausted. Rousing himself, he put the rum down and went to the dressers. They contained everything a gentleman could need, from undergarments to pants and shirts, and it all looked to be well made from quality linen and wool. Looking down at his own clothes, tattered, dirty and still damp from his recent misadventures, he resolved to toss overboard as soon as possible everything he was wearing. If these clothes didn't fit him, they would at least do until he reached Nassau, and his crew would be quite welcome to take what they needed from the previous crew's quarters.

With that decided, he took another mouthful of rum, corked the bottle, and returned to deck.

x ~ X ~ x

Edward had been standing at the helm, contemplating recent events while watching birds fly overhead, when it came to him, the brig's new name. "I think I'll call her Jackdaw, Ade, for a sly bird I loved as a child back in Swansea." He felt a rare pang of homesickness and thought briefly of Caroline.

"A dark little creature, no?" Ade replied, leaning back against the railing to regard Edward.

Only then did it occur to Edward that Adewale might have wanted to claim the brig. It had been his idea to steal it in the first place. He wondered if he had anything to fear from this man. "Does it rub you wrong that I take this brig as mine own?"

Adewale shrugged. "It is the sort of rub I have learned to endure sailing among faces of such ... fairness." He turned to look at the men on deck below, all English, Irish, or Welsh as far as Edward could tell.

"It's true, most of these men wouldn't accept you as captain. So what fair role would complement such unfairness?" He barely knew Adewale, but he owed the man his life and thus far he could think of no reason why they couldn't work together.

Adewale's expression barely changed, but a twitch of his brow and a slight hesitation before he responded suggested that he was surprised by the question. "I'll be your Quartermaster, nothing less." He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for Edward to speak.

Edward would need someone experienced at his side, and Adewale seemed more than capable. "All right. And as Quartermaster, have you any immediate counsel for this tyro captain?"

"Rest and repast would do us good before Nassau. Water for drinking, hunting for food, and repairs."

"Well reasoned, sir. Hunting it shall be. We'll find a decent place to drop anchor. Have you figured where we are?"

"Aye. Abaco Island is to the northeast. If the winds favour us we should find it before night fall."

Edward nodded. "Good. Nassau is but a few days south from there."

Up in the rigging, a sailor started to sing. "Help me, Bob, I'm bully in the alley, way hey bully in the alley."

All along the deck, other men joined in. "Help me, Bob, I'm bully in the alley, bulley down in shinbone Al!"

Edward smiled. His last captain hadn't been a friendly man by any stretch of the imagination and no one had ever dared sing a shanty on board the ship. They were an unhappy, drunken lot. Edward rather enjoyed a good song and wanted his crew to be happy; he would be a different sort of captain.

Turning to Adewale, he said, "I spied a few items in the cabin, powder and pistols. I think I'll fashion myself a second holster, if I can."

Adewale laughed, deep and rich, and nodded. "It's a good start."

"One you find laughable?"

"Could we talk a moment about the condition of the ship?" His warm smile faded, replaced by a more serious expression.

"What's the trouble?" Edward closed his eyes and turned his face toward the sun, hoping the news wasn't too bad.

"I had a walk about the gundeck and couldn't stand for what I saw. A clutter of linstocks heaped like tinder, and one with a slow match still burning."

"Christ." Edward's eyes flew open and he gave Adewale his full and undivided attention.

Edward's focus was not lost on Adewale and he continued. "And just nearby, two barrels of gunpowder, closer than man and wife, fit to explode at the touch of a spark."

"We'll stow ours good and proper."

Adewale was just getting started, Edward realized, and the list of issues needing to be resolved grew with every breath he took.

"As for the cannons, they might as well be tossed. Clogged touch holes in need of scraping, corrosion on the bodies, barrel swabs as naked as knives, and breech ropes so rotted I could use them for knitting yarn. The short of it is we need good equipment, kept in fine condition, for we cannot win every battle with sneers and shouts." He turned to look Edward in the eye. "So worry about your armaments when it suits you, but don't forget about your Jackdaw as well."

Edward nodded, appreciating the man's straightforward manner and unflinching honesty. "No, indeed. We'll make it a point to keep this ship and its crew in fine condition." Reconsidering an earlier decision, he said, "The Captain's cabin is full of treasures and the ship has cargo. We'll take what we need, sell the rest, and use the money to repair The Jackdaw, pay these men, and recruit more sailors. Everyone can help themselves to clothing and a prize, but the rest will be used to set this ship right."

Draping an arm over the wheel, he turned to face his quartermaster. "My thanks for your counsel, Adewale. I respect a man who's honest with me."

They nodded to one another and slipped into a comfortable silence, their eyes on the horizon. Gerald, who volunteered to be scout for the day, started a new shanty.

"Weigh-hey and up she rises, weigh-hey and up she rises, weigh-hey and up she rises early in the morning!"

Laughing, Edward joined in. "What will we do with a drunken sailor? What will we do with a drunken sailor?"

Adewale joined him for the rest of the chorus. "What will we do with a drunken sailor? Early in the morning!"

x ~ X ~ x

The Jackdaw anchored off the shore of Abaco Island for five days. In addition to getting the crew rested and recovered from their captivity, Edward wanted Adewale to be satisfied that they would be able to work with the equipment they had until it could be replaced. He aimed to avoid trouble if possible, but there were times when it couldn't be helped. He also wanted to know what, exactly, was in the cargo hold so that when they reached Nassau, they would be ready to sell it, and there were some repairs they could do themselves with supplies from the ship's hold. Sorting through provisions was also a priority, and Edward was pleased to discover that they had everything they needed to salt their own fish. There was a store of hardtack and the ingredients to make more, and the Jackdaw was equipped with a whaling boat, harpoon, and fishing nets. Edward set about teaching those who didn't know how to fish. They gathered fresh water from the small pond at Abaco's center and hunted iguana and ocelot for bait, bones, and skins. At night the men built fires along the beach, drank rum, and told stories while they cooked and ate the day's catch.

Edward's affable personality and his sailing, hunting, and fishing skills quickly gained him the respect and admiration of the crew. With Adewale's help, he sorted through the trunks and boxes in his cabin and throughout the rest of the ship. When all was said and done, they were able to ensure that each man on board received a trunk containing a cup, plate, bowl, knife, fork, spoon, a woolen blanket, and two hundred reales. Edward found an empty ledger amongst the former captain's possessions and quickly put it to use noting what he'd given to the crew, as he wanted to be sure each new crew member was given the same kit. He also itemized their cargo to make negotiations with the harbour master and local merchants easier to manage.

As the sun rose on the sixth morning, he stepped out of his cabin and waved to the men on deck. Climbing up to the quarterdeck, he smiled and nodded to Adewale.

"So, are we rested or should we idle a while longer?"

"Best weigh anchor. I think the crew is itching to reach civilization."

"You'll find no civilization in Nassau, Ade, but it's a fine place to be merry all the same. Why don't you call out the orders?"

Adewale shouted out to weigh anchor and hoist the sails, and the men got to work. Taking the wheel, Edward wondered who would be in Nassau when they arrived. He couldn't remember when he'd last seen Ben Hornigold, Edward Thatch, or James Kidd, and he hoped they would be in residence. He smiled as memories of their adventures together as privateers and their growing brotherhood in Nassau came to him. It would be good to see them again.

The Jackdaw's masts creaked as the wind caught the sails and Edward turned his attention to navigating them around sand bars and rock and out into the open ocean. The skies were bright blue, the horizon clear, and the wind steady. Edward felt a surge of excitement, an unwavering conviction that he was going to find a great prize, and he looked at the ship, from her sails and masts down to her deck. With a bit of work and time, he'd have everything he needed to succeed and a whole new world of opportunity would open up to him. His head swam at the thought of it, and he took a deep breath. _Focus on the task at hand, Mate. Focus on the task at hand._

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: It's been a crazy couple of weeks at our house and my plans to stick to a regular publishing schedule were derailed almost as quickly as I made them. Finding time to write has been tricky. However, I think things are settling down again so I hope to have you docking at Nassau in two weeks. My thanks to AC4 for the playground, to Zevgirl and Zute for their friendship and encouragement, and to my readers. Thank you for adding me to your alerts and following along. I'd like to hear from you! Cheers, Biff.


	4. The Confederacy

**The Confederacy**

_Nassau, September 1715_

"By God, you're a sight for salty eyes! Come you in and have a drink," Ben Hornigold called out when he saw Edward approaching what passed for Nassau's tavern.

"Morning all," Kenway said as he climbed the stairs to the balcony at the front of the pub.

"Ahoy, Kenway," Ed Thatch handed him a tankard of ale and gestured to the bartender to pour more. Nodding to Adewale, he asked, "Who's this?"

Clapping a hand on Adewale's shoulder, Edward replied, "This is Adewale, the Jackdaw's Quartermaster."

Thatch's eyes twinkled with humour. "Jackdaw? You named your brig after a poxy bird?" He laughed loudly and shook his head.

Ignoring the rub, Edward said, "Ade, these lads are the better part of our growing Confederacy here. Ed Thatch, Ben Hornigold, James Kidd."

Several feet away, seated at the sunny end of the balcony with his back to the wall, a young man raised his tankard in response.

"Get yourself a drink, Ade."

"You let him carry a gun, do you?" Ben asked as Adewale walked away.

Edward frowned. "Peace, Ben. Ade saved my life and now we're looking for a crew to fill out the rest of my ship."

"Well, there's scores of capable men about. But use caution," Thatch warned, resting his arms on the balcony's railing, his keen eyes scanning the scene below. "A shipload of the King's sailors showed up a fortnight back, causin' trouble and knocking about like they own the place."

Edward had always looked up to Thatch as a mentor of sorts, and took his counsel seriously. Nodding, he quaffed back the rest of his ale. "Right. I'll see who I can muster." Turning to face Thatch, he said, "I have a hold full of cargo to sell, Ed, and a ship in need of repairs, new guns and cannons."

The older man nodded. "And you need a captain such as myself to help you with that, I suppose?"

"Aye, until you see fit to give me a flag of mine own." Edward grinned. "Perhaps you'd like to take some treasure from my personal collection in return for the favour?"

Thatch snorted, a hint of affection in his gruff voice. "Save that charm of yours for the women, Kenway. Come see me when you've got your crew and we'll talk."

Clapping a hand on Thatch's shoulder, Edward nodded to his friends. "We'll catch you up later."

Adewale finished his ale and followed Edward back down into Nassau's streets. "Send any men you recruit to me, Captain, and I'll put them to work."

Most of Edward's first day in Nassau was spent rescuing from the King's men sailors who had been arrested on one charge or another and were likely to hang. One actually did have the noose 'round his neck when Edward freed him. When Kenway returned to the Jackdaw that evening, he was happy to see that every single man he'd freed had turned up for a bunk on his ship and was working on a task assigned by his Quartermaster. Satisfied that he had a good sized crew, he retired to his cabin for some rum and was soon lulled to sleep by the sound of the waves slapping against the ship's hull.

x ~ X ~ x

The Jackdaw's repairs took a week, but when they were done, Edward and Adewale were very pleased with the results. The crew was happy as well, as Edward had arranged for their quarters to be expanded and outfitted with new mattresses. As had become their custom, the men met at the tavern for a drink at the end of the day.

Ben handed Edward a tankard and nodded toward the ocean. "Now you'll want to sail somewhere rich with plunder."

"Have you heard of a place called the Observatory?" Edward asked, happy to finally have a chance to talk about this mysterious place with his mates.

James Kidd pushed himself away from the bar and joined Ben and Edward. "Aye. It's an old legend, like El Dorado or the Fountain of Youth."

"What have you heard?" Edward asked, trying not to sound too eager.

The lad shrugged. "It's meant to be a temple or a tomb, hiding a treasure of some kind."

Edward reached into his jacket and pulled out the document he'd taken from Governor Torres, handing it to Kidd. "That's it. You see here."

Ed Thatch stood closer, looking over Kidd's shoulder as the younger man unfolded the parchment. Kidd's eyes widened ever so slightly when they fell upon the strange drawings and symbols, and Edward sensed that the lad knew more about this place than he was letting on.

"Ah, rot! It's fairy stories you prefer to gold, is it?" Thatch snorted.

"It's worth more than gold, Thatch. Ten thousand times above what we could pull off any Spanish ship."

Behind him, Ben sighed. "Robbing the King to pay his paupers is how we earn our keep here, lad. That ain't a fortune, it's a fantasy."

Kidd handed the parchment back to Edward and clapped a hand on his shoulder, giving him a look he couldn't quite figure. Was it pity? Understanding? Did the boy know something about this Observatory? Before he could say anything, James muttered, 'good night all', threw back what was left of his drink, and vanished into the crowd. The lad was down the street and at the next corner before Edward set eyes on him again. Sighing, he put the parchment into his pocket and turned his attention back to Hornigold and Thatch.

The two men had settled on a course of action. Ben would sail with Edward, teach him how to take a prize the 'proper way', as the older man suggested. It was hardly necessary, Edward thought, but it was the fastest way to get a flag of his own, and so he agreed to meet Ben the following morning and sail out under his tutelage.

x ~ X ~ x

Kenway impressed Hornigold with his skills at sea and the way he managed his ship and crew, and he quickly earned himself a black flag. He had to admit, however, that Ben did teach him a few new tricks, the least of which was how to find the right person to bribe when he had drawn too much attention to himself. As was their custom, the two men enjoyed a tankard of rum in Edward's cabin at the end of the day. They sat at the round table, looking through the collection of maps there.

"You did well today, Kenway," Ben said. "Half a dozen scores of that size and you'll be set for a year. Let's sell this cargo and fix up your Jackdaw with a few more trinkets."

Edward took a drink and shook his head. "Sod a year, Ben. I'm looking for a prize that will set me up for life. I'll be King of the West Indies then."

It was Ben's turn to shake his head. "We came to Nassau to get _away_ from the likes of kings."

Edward leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling, watching the candlelight dance there. "Well, I'll be a man of property and promise, anyway."

"Jaysus, let that dream go, lad. Nassau's the place to be, not England."

"Have you never dreamed of the big score, Ben?" Edward asked, leaning forward to hunch over the table, his eyes fixed on his friend's. "A ship so full of gold and silver you could just split it and sail home?"

"Sure I have, but it's only a dream. Every man hopes to find a dozen chests of gold with no owner, but they're as rare as an honest king. You'd best get to sleep before your addled brain conjures up any more flights of fancy, Edward." He stood and finished his rum. "I'll leave you to your dreams, lad. See you in the morning."

"Aye." Edward replied, shifting his gaze to the flickering candlelight before him.

He fell asleep in his armchair, imagining himself with wealth, nice clothes, a home, and a family. In this dream, he and Caroline wanted for nothing, they were respected, and their children were healthy and well educated.

x ~ X ~ x

Edward and Ben arrived at Salt Key the following afternoon. After they paid a local official to make their notoriety disappear, they welcomed Thatch aboard and began the task of unloading and selling Edward's cargo and making arrangements to have more work done to the Jackdaw.

Ed Thatch was impressed. "You're a wonder, Kenway. You've a knack for this kind of work."

"It ain't work if you love it," Edward said, handing a case of rum to a crew member.

Thatch laughed and scratched his chin. "Ah, tosh!"

Pulling bottles of rum from another case at his feet, Edward passed one to Thatch and then to Hornigold. "But I ain't doing this forever, lads. Only until I get enough coin to buy some land and influence back home."

Ben rolled his eyes and Thatch shook his head. Both men were by now well acquainted with Edward's talk. Again, Ben scoffed.

"Will you listen to that tripe? Still dreaming on about that strumpet back in England when you can have any Betty you wanted, here and now."

Thatch groaned and took a swig of rum, shooting a disapproving glance Ben's way. He knew from experience that taking jabs at Edward's relationship with his wife would make the man dull company, and indeed Edward's smile faded.

"Ah, such lofty goals for you gents. And here I thought I was in the company of scoundrels."

Corking the bottle he'd been drinking from, he put it down and climbed up to the quarterdeck where Adewale stood, watching the goings on. Edward held his tongue for a moment, trying not to let Ben's words sully his mood much. He often wrestled with feelings of guilt when it came to Caroline. He hadn't returned home when he'd promised, he hadn't sent for her, and he'd only written to her twice since leaving England. As far as husbands went, he knew he was no prize catch, but he couldn't let go of her or his dreams of being a successful sea captain. To return home now would be to abandon his dream and admit defeat, and he had to wonder if she'd take him back anyway. He hadn't been faithful to her and he hadn't sent her so much as a single coin to support her. Trying to shake the gloomy thoughts from his head, he turned to Adewale.

"What's the crew's mood, Ade?"

"All smiles and no teeth, Edward. And there's a few talking about meeting with Master Kidd to steal from a nearby plantation."

That caught Edward's attention and fully pulled him back to the present. "A plantation? That's ambitious."

"Profitable, too, if we can manage it," Adewale said.

"Aye, it's a good idea."

A successful plantation job would be a good start toward building his fortune, and if he knew Kidd, the lad would be willing to let Edward in on it. Feeling merry once again, and determined to get on with making something of himself, he rounded up Ben and Ed and went ashore to have some supper and find James Kidd.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thank you Ubisoft for the playground and dialogue. A shout out to my friends, Zute and Zevgirl, and to everyone who is tagging along for the ride. Thank you for following! Feel free to drop a line, I do enjoy hearing from you. Cheers, Biff.


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